”Oh no, not turkey. It´s always so dry”.

Or this one: ”Turkey. Been there, done that. This year we´re having duck”.

My brother Curtis lives in Trondheim, a Norwegian city full of Vikings with big-assed moustaches who drink moonshine disguised as coffee. Curtis is a pescatarian (yes, that´s a real word). He eats halibut for Christmas dinner.

I live in Stavanger, a Norwegian city known for its expats, its pietism and its wannabe cultural status. Stavanger is a moustache-free zone, and the coffee is for the most part just coffee. I am a carnivore (also a real word), and my family and I eat 2 ½ Christmas dinners each year.

The first dinner-and-a-half is of Norwegian origin. My mother-in-law makes traditional pinnekjøtt (very loosely translated as stick-meat): dried ribs of lamb or mutton. The meat is generally boiled or steamed, and the adventurous give the ribs a turn in the oven right before eating to crisp-up the whole affair.

Pinnekjøtt at svigermor´s house is acccompanied by boiled potatoes, kohlrabi purée, pickled beets, pickled small onions, pickled pickles, and melted butter. I´m not a big fan of pinnekjøtt, though I give it a new chance each year on Christmas Eve. Between you and me: pinnekjøtt has always reminded me of a dish one might be served whilst serving time.

The Norwegians, including the severely-moustached, also have other Christmas Eve favorites. Lutefisk (yes, as in ”Fargo” lutefisk) is one of them, but the most popular of all is ribbe, simply oven-roasted pork ribs.

Pork, better known as ”the other white meat”, is my favorite of all the meats. And I love pork ribs: barbecued ribs, short ribs, Asian ribs; all ribs, including the Norwegian ribbe. If it wasn´t for turkey, I might make this dish my Christmas favorite.

Several years ago I asked my mother-in-law if I could bring a couple of kilos of ribbe to the Christmas Eve dinner. She graciously accepted, though I am quite sure she felt this gesture was both unnecessary and a bit odd. My foil-wrapped ribbe is now an accepted, and almost expected, part of our yearly dinner.

As with any respectable Christmas meal, it is cusomary that one eat way too much of everything. And this is just fine by me.

The 1st Christmas Day, as it is called over here

Norwegians can´t believe that many of us Americans actually postpone Christmas to December 25th. Over here we get the job done on Christmas Eve, a custom which in a way makes perfect sense. On the other hand I believe in respecting tradition. Therefore I am now respecting both December 24th and the 25th.

Christmas Day is also called the 1st Day of Christmas. This year the big day falls on a Thursday. That makes Friday the 2nd Christmas Day, Saturday the 3rd, and so on. And it is the 1st Day of Christmas we Okies do our celebratin´.

The day after porking out at svigemor´s, we do the same at our house. And even though I start the dinner preparations a couple of days ahead of time, I still manage to use the entire 1XD (that´s 1st Christmas Day in telephone-texting lanuage), to get the dinner ready. I also am yet to serve the dinner at the agreed upon time, something which I am always reminded of, generally on said day´s busiest moment.

On Christmas Day we pork out on the other other white meat: turkey. My grandmother Pokey (Pocahontas Storm Emerson; this would make her my father´s svigermor) always made a huge spread for Christmas dinner, and I also do my utmost to make as much out of this meal as I possibly can.

Pokey made bread stuffing, and I make cornbread stuffing, but otherwise my dinner resembles the dinners she made, just in a slightly smaller scale. I always ask my sons which pies they want to eat (this year it´s pumpkin and apple), but Pokey made at least 4 different desserts. My Christmas dinner will never ever top hers, but the meal is always tasty, the turkey never dry, and hey, tradition is tradition. The wife and kids are happy, ditto the parents- and brothers-in-law, and even with the pig-a-thon from the day before, I still manage to enjoy this meal more than any other during the entire year.

The importance of writing stuff down, double-checking and checking again

The secret to a successful meal, at least when more than a couple of people are eating it, is having a good plan. It always hurts a bit to say something positive about the French, but they have a great expression for having a good plan called mise en place. This expression means making lists, double-checking all ingredients, slicing and dicing ahead of time all that can be sliced or diced, and in general having enough inner peace that one can concentrate on the meal at hand when the ball starts rolling.

I am the zen master of mise en place when Christmas Day rolls around, mostly because the meal would easily end up a disaster if I didn´t do some serious planning. I awake to lists of things to do, and after a wake up glass of iced tea I´m ready to roll.

Here is a complete list of what we eat for Christmas dinner, a repeat of Christmases Past:

A whole fresh turkey from the Stange farm in the eastern part of Norway

Dressing (as Pokey always called it; also known as stuffing) with cornbread, onion, pecans, homemade sausage, chicken stock, butter and fresh sage

Mashed potatoes (weighty with all that butter and cream)

Cranberry sauce

Sweet potatoies with marshmallows

Corn

Pokey´s Green Beans (with bacon, butter and ground pepper)

Dinner rolls (which my now grown-up kids still call ”chef hats”)

Honey butter (for the rolls)

Gravy (of course)

Pies for dessert

As far as drink goes, it´s iced tea right up the the minute the dinner is served. Then it´s of course wine, both red and white. The white wine is always chardonnay aged in oak barrels, and the red changes a bit from year to year. Zinfandel is good, also a sangiovese-based wine from Tuscany or a pinot noir from the States or good old France.

It´s now T minus 4 days to turkey dinner and I can´t wait. Since anyone reading this blog who has English as their mother tongue, doesn´t even remotely care about MY Christmas dinner recipes, I will print the recipes in Norwegian. Wax back that hefty moustache, put on the coffee and enjoy!

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